


Late

by clowchan



Category: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - All Media Types, Trouble in the Heights
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Silly, Worry, crackships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7853749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clowchan/pseuds/clowchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For some reason I had an urge to write a Nevactacus fic<br/>Caractacus is not home at his usual time, which causes Nevada to feel something he never felt before: worry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late

 

Caractacus made him feel things Nevada normally didn't. And he sometimes hated it. He knew his liking (because he was not ready to use the L word yet) would be used against him and he feared that. Another emotion he was not used to. Nevada was the one to cause fear. Caractacus was a weakness and in this job you couldn't have any. Their relationship was so secretive. Nobody besides his bodyguards knew. He paid women handsomely to pretend to be with him so it would throw the scent off of Caractacus.

The clock read 4:00 PM.  This was the time Caractacus got home right on the dot from whatever errands he ran. Usually, he was collecting parts for whatever extravagant invention he was working on. Nevada always laughed at how punctual the man was. He even carried three pocket watches for various events or so Caractacus claimed. Nevada would just shake his head and say “So ridiculous”. And Caractacus would retort, “Punctuality is a serious matter!” And now it was 4:05 and no sign of him. Nevada began to sweat. He texts his various bodyguards who were supposed to watch over him: _“Where is Potts?”_  

He receives a text: _“IDK Boss. He slipped away.”_

Nevada exhales audibly through his nose. _“Slipped away.”_ He almost threw his phone against a wall. How did they lose sight of someone who wears various colours of plaid nearly every single day? Goddamn Potts. Nevada wished he didn't care for him. Let him get lost. Why should he care? But he _does_ care and now he was pissed because he worried about him. The clock reads 4:10. Ten minutes late. It felt like a day. Now he had to take things into his own hands. He couldn't bear the thought of him hurt or worse and he's witnessed what his enemies could do with his own men. What if they got to Caractacus and he was next? He opened a desk drawer that contained his two favourite guns. HK .45s to be precise. As he loads the guns, their apartment door bursts open. He points one the guns at it.

“Nevada! It's me!” Caractacus raises both hands in the air, dropping two paper bags in the process.

“Christ!” Nevada puts the guns away. “Where were you? Why were you late? You're never late.” Nevada was completely flustered. He hated to admit that he was scared for his safety. “Why didn't you text me?”

“Getting parts,” Caractacus straightens his tie a little out of nervousness. “Sorry, the batteries died when I was out.”

“You should have told one of the crew to text me, _mi_ _amor_ ,” Nevada walked up to him, still shaking.

“I lost them, but I didn't mean to. I get so caught up in thinking about inventions that I didn't realise they were gone. And I lost track of time. That is until I saw what time it was at the store,” Caractacus blushed. “I tried rushing back as soon as possible.”

“Don't you have _three_ watches?” Nevada wraps his arms around Caractacus, nuzzling the crook of his neck. He was relieved to have him back home, prattling away.

“I actually forgot to take them with me. They were in my other vest,” he rubs his arms. “I must apologise for worrying you so.”

Nevada blinks for a second. It shouldn't be possible for him to feel that way for anyone and Caractacus was right. For reasons still unknown to him, he cared for this very peculiar and eccentric man.  _A lot._ Still, he tried to play it off like he wasn't. He had a reputation to uphold. “Me? _Worried?_ Who the hell are you confusing me with?”

This only garnered a laugh from Caractacus. “I assure you, my dear Nevada, there's nobody else on this Earth I could confuse you with.” He turns around to face him, “Even if you do try and pretend not to be.” He cups his face and kisses his cheek.

Nevada side-eyes him for a moment, “I don't pretend.”

Caractacus only smiles in response before letting go. “I am working on the most marvellous contraption that might pique your interest.” He heads back to the door and picks up the bags.

Nevada cocks an eyebrow as he watches him bend down. He whispers to himself, “ _Damn_.”

“What's that?” Caractacus walks back over and unloads the parts on his workbench.

Nevada wraps an arm around his shoulder. He looked at the cogs and screws and whatever else that littered the table as Caractacus sorts through them. “Tell me.”

Caractacus giggles, “Oh no, it's a surprise for later. Tonight.”

“I understand,” Nevada slides his hand down his back and caresses his ass before Caractacus moves his hand back up to his waist.

Caractacus clears his throat, “And that too.”

“Oh?”

“I truly owe it to you for worrying you so. I'm going to make it up to you.” Caractacus places the part down and holds his hands. “You'll see.”

Nevada grins, “I can't wait.”

“I promise when I'm done it'll be well worth the wait,” he starts piecing the parts together.

Nevada couldn't help but wrap his arms around him again, watching him tinker. Whatever this relationship was becoming, he enjoyed Caractacus' company immensely. He never wanted to worry about him like that again. Even if he wasn't quite ready to admit it.

 


End file.
